


As it was (The love we stole)

by maviemesregles



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, WEE Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maviemesregles/pseuds/maviemesregles
Summary: Crowded Marseille coastline in August brings the two together again. Under french sun would they remember as it was? The way they said goodbye some time ago promising to forget.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	As it was (The love we stole)

**Author's Note:**

> _  
> P.S.  
>  So this Nobleman photoshoot has inspired quite a few people for the moodboards. And since I have zero self-control of keeping an intrigue… Here is an announcement for the new story I’ve been working on. It’ll be five parts fic with ex’s trope… _
> 
> _Coming in a month._
> 
>   
> _A wee preview down below._

_It’s twenty past eight in the evening and it is still hot in Marseille._

_The city drowns in warm flickering lights swallowed inside the bellies of yellow windows glow. It smells like freedom married to salty breeze of the Mediterranean Sea. The air is thick, pregnant with a scent of ruby wine, seafood and carelessness._

_This place is a perfect spot beckons to come here and be lost. Perhaps it’s rich wines and l’hommes français. It might be lulling rush of the waves sounding like angels wings. Or the glimmering sun that kisses the skin in the most secret places._

_Claire gathers her hair, thick and dry from salty water, secures it in a loose bun. She feels the droplet of sweat rolling down her nape, tickling softest skin on her back. It disappears behind her summer dress, following the route of her spine. Daisies on her dress flutter with a wind, hugging her thighs with its silky touch._

_She takes a bite of her pasta and closes eyes savouring its perfect flavour. It’s rich with mushrooms, creamy and exactly what she needed. There’s warm bread with butter tempting her with its crunchy skin. Claire hums considering she should abandon this idea of a gluten-free diet._

_She sips on her Chenin Blanc that bites at her sun chapped lips. The wine glass cools her fingers and she sighs. Why is she here? Why the hell she came to the place that reminds her so bloody much…_

_She must be going crazy._

_Yes, she is._

_Claire still thinks of the previous night when she was under a french stranger. Her body did respond but there was a phrase, sharp as a bullet going through her head._

_“Ye touch my soul, ye are under my skin, Claire”_

_Something from the life before._

_She shakes her head, forcing a polite smile when the waiter approaches her. She stumbles searching for cold to the touch euro coins buried between pounds. Dress straps hurt her sun-red shoulders and she bites her lip feeling her phone vibrating._

_Answering would be a slow and agonizing death. But she was never one for smart choices._

_She lifts a hand to her ear._

_“Are ye asleep, Beauchamp?”_

_His voice._


End file.
